Stolen Destiny
by crimson-rkngel.com
Summary: A new type of evil arises in Rune Midgard, an evil unlike any that has come before it. The time has come for the chosen to fulfill the destiny that has been set before them. Can they avert destruction this time around?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Okay, the standard disclaimer here folks. I don't own Ragnarok Online, Gravity does and I don't own Mageknight either, Wizkids does. So save yourself the trouble of trying to sue me, I don't have any money. Seriously. Now that that's done with, let's get on with the fic.

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Stolen Destiny

By: Midnight Blue Eyes

Prologue

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_I see the end coming . . ._

A vast, endless river of black mist poured out of a stone archway flowing in one direction as though it knew where it was going.

_I feel the cold touch of darkness closing in from the horizon . . ._

Metal turned into rust, trees withered, rocks crumbled and water turned black at the slight touch of the tainted mist.

_An oath long since abandoned . . ._

The flowing black mist came upon and surrounded four pillars of light, which radiated a color different from the other.

_A vigil left unfinished . . . _

The light emanating from the pillars started to grow dim as the black mist that surrounded them closed in on them.

Destiny never waits . . . 

The black mist finally engulfed the four pillars before spreading in eight directions, no trace of the pillars were left.

_The Gate is now open._

A visage of a tree came into sight with symbols hovering at its base, followed by a flash of blinding light.

Kastali's eyes immediately snapped open, her body now sitting upright on her bed; her flowing red hair fluttering in the wind as a strong breeze blew through her open window. The images that flashed through her mind were as vivid as the setting sun. The words in her dream echoed hauntingly, lingering, warning, reminding. Her hand immediately sought her final connection to her past, the last reminder of something lost forever. Her fingers gently trailed the cold outline of her mask, as though its texture spoke more than a thousand volumes of books could tell. She thought it was all over, that they'd left it all behind, but in her heart she knew this day would come. The day that the past they'd left behind would come back to haunt them.

'How long has it been?' 

'_How long have I dreaded this day to come? How long has it been since I've last felt the eye's pull?'_

'_It has remained dormant for years, but now . . .'_

'_It is time. At long last it is time'_

'_What would happen now? Would we run again?'_

'_Do we really stand a chance?'_

'_What chance do these people have against something magic, technology, technomancy, and might can do nothing against?'_

Immediately Kastali got up from her bed and strode through the lonely cobblestone corridors, her destination set. Arriving at her destination she stood before a wooden door with a gothic looking C symbol etched upon it. Silently she opened the door and peeked inside. There she found him sleeping peacefully as if the events a month ago have never come to pass. She silently watched his chest rise and fall, listened to the sound of his rhythmic breathing, and found herself slightly more at peace. She smiled inwardly at the thought.

'Back then if I tried to foresee what my future would be like, this life that I lead now would be at the bottom of my list.'

She'd only met him a month ago yet somehow she felt connected to him, as though she already knew him, as though their meeting was supposed to happen. She saw that the fire in his eyes were akin to her own, the raw anger, anguish and determination that once shone brightly in her eyes flickered within his. Perhaps this was the reason she took him in.

Or perhaps it was simply the fact that they were two of a kind.

'He seems to be recovering well from the tragedy… physically anyway. However there are some things time cannot mend.'

She knew that after what happened he could never be the same and return to his normal life. The past three days were a testament of how he slowly realized this fact. He spent those three days crying.'

He cried. He cried for his parents, cried for Lina, cried for Raven, cried for the rogues who deserved their being sent to the hospital, cried for his own life.

'And now the time is upon us, where all of those bound by the threads of fate must now weave this last chapter, the final act long overdue. The Destiny once forgotten, which they had run from, had now caught up with them.'

'_All the more reason more to continue his acolyte training.'_

She walked closer to him and sat in the chair adjacent to his bed, noting that he had cried himself to sleep again. She brushed a few silvery blond strands of hair from his face before giving a quick kiss on his forehead. She then quickly stood up and made to leave the room but abruptly stopped at the room's entrance.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, shedding a tear before finally leaving the boy's bedroom.

'_I'm so sorry.'_

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A year had passed . . .

And during that year things went from alright to awry. Reports from all the major cities poured into Rune Midgard's capital city Prontera. There had been rumors of the thieves' guilds in Morroc feuding with one another at night, covering the city in a shroud of fear and violence. Food ran scarce in the cities of Geffen, Alde Barran and Payon. Alberta's once bustling merchant city now mellowed down as some shops didn't open for days, their shopkeepers hardly leaving the house. Also reports of thievery incidents have increased in the satellite city of Izlude, baffling the already tapped authorities.

Each city of Rune Midgard's inner sphere seemed to be preoccupied with each of their own problems that they never saw the dawning of a new age. The time of the messengers has come.

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It was raining. Hard. A lone figure was standing under an archway, watching as the rain continued to pour from the dark clouds above. His chestnut brown hair swayed in the wind's direction as it blew through the archway, his ruby eyes watching the raindrops falling upon the garden, making the flowers sparkle in the moonlight. He seemed mesmerized at the way it fell upon the earth, washing away its impurities. How he wished it could be done for him as well.

As he stood there transfixed his hand drifted to one of his weapons, a golden long sword, and grasped it by the hilt. It was one of the few things constant in his life. He'd already spent six months traveling from city to city, traversing mountains, sleeping in forests, constantly wandering. He lived by relying on his crafting skills. His aimless exodus fueled only by two words.

'Arciellant. Maren'kar. I wish I knew what exactly these two words mean to me. What or who are they? They're the only lead I have to my past, as well as my future.'

He drew the sword from its sheath and examined it. The pale moonlight reflected off its golden surface, making it gleam slightly. The single-edged sword was almost entirely gold, the exceptions being the handle and the cylinder attached on its blunt edge. Also noticeable about it was a small curved notch protruding on one side of the handle. He regarded it thoughtfully, reminiscing the events that lead to his possession of the sword.

Or more precisely he wished he never got it.

'The rain is finally stopping. Maybe I can find lodging for the night.'

He then proceeded further into the heart of the vast capital, he decided he would rest for the night before running through the local rumor mill in the morning. He ducked into the nearest inn and quickly checked in. The night grew deeper and soon the wandering blacksmith finally found himself lulled by the sweet embrace of sleep. His mind drifted into the void realm where all minds go to when asleep, be it another dimension or simply a world existing in our minds.

He opened his eyes and found himself in a ruined courtyard. Castle sections and pillars were strewn about, forming a makeshift coliseum. He stood once more under an archway staring at the rain once more. His attention shifted when he heard a roar echoing in the night sky. At one side of the arena stood an gigantic shadow its features resembling something close to a bull standing on its hind legs wielding an enormous scythe. It seemed to be glaring at something . . . a figure at the other side of the arena.

It was a person in full-plate armor; someone with red hair arranged into a spiky pony tail. . . It was a girl.

"Alright," Said the armored female, pointing her sword at her opponent, who was easily thrice her size.

"It's just you and me, one on one."

The shadow lifted its weapon over its head and charged at her. She also lifted her weapon over her head and brought it down too soon…or so he thought. A pillar of light erupted and disintegrated the shadow, the last of its fragments forming a small gem which she took.

"Un…believable"

The winds picked up with increased force and blew the band, which held the girl's hair, releasing, making it flow like silk in the wind. It seemed now that she was staring at him with her violet eyes. He gasped fearing that she might think him that he was slaking her, but in reality she was only watching her hair band fly off to his direction, not once noticing him. He found his stare lock with hers. She seemed so strong when he first saw her…but…her eyes…they seemed so gentle, so vulnerable. He reached his hand out to her and…

A flash of lightning made him withdraw his hand, and brought him back to his room. He slowly sat up on his bed.

"It was a dream…?"

But his hand still felt wet, and much to his surprise, it was. He quickly checked under the sheets to make sure it wasn't what he thought it was. He was definitely too old for that. Satisfied that he hadn't wet his bed, his thoughts drifted back to his dream, or so he thought it to be.

He found a towel and dried his hand. He lied back down on his bed and stared at it. He reached it out towards the ceiling as though he was reaching out for the girl in his dreams again.

"Weird" he muttered.

His last coherent thoughts lingered on her cool violet eyes, before succumbing to a dreamless sleep.

He never knew that his dream was the last seal, the last barrier holding back the flood of destiny. It would begin soon, and Rune Midgard would be torn asunder.

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Author's note:

Alrighty, there goes my first chappie for my very first fanfic. I feel so blessed. My beta-reader said thatMY fic, was alright. sobsShe said that it was alright . . . . .

Ok I'm fine now.

Knowledge pertaining to both games I'm splicing together is not needed, I'm trying to make sure of that. Though it would sometimes help in ruining my surprises. There's also a scene in this fic, which I "borrowed" from an anime, kudos to anyone who spots it. I put it there for a purpose. Hopefully it would serve as a basis for some fluff later. And lastly read and review please. Constructed criticisms are welcome, while flames will be put out.

Midnight Blue Eyes signing off.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Okay, the standard disclaimer here folks. I don't own Ragnarok Online, Gravity does and I don't own Mageknight either, Wizkids does. If I owned both then I wouldn't be here writing this fanfic. I'd make sure that this story will be the main storyline. I DON'T have any money so save yourself the trouble of trying to sue me.

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Stolen Destiny

By: Midnight Blue Eyes

Chapter 1: Wheels of Destiny

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A solitary figure stood still inside a small, round, dimly lit chamber. Its walls were lined with numerous shelves containing dusty tomes and parched scrolls as well as worktables laden with strange apparatuses. There were four candleholders evenly spaced around the room, which acted as the room's sole source of light. The dancing candlelight gracefully outlined the sole occupant's lithe form, revealing her very feminine curves. She stood in front of a large water basin, with her eyes closed in deep concentration and her hand held steadily just inches above the water's surface. She began chanting in an unknown language, indecipherable to anyone native to Rune-Midgard.

She was in the chamber once more.

The chamber, which changed, shaped and defined her life.

The chamber where she saw everything unfold, from simple converstions to major battles to the land's destiny, she witnessed everything from the water basin in the center of the room.

She was once more in the scrying chamber.

Blurry images flashed through Kastali's mind as she focused on the scrying pool. Whispers and murmurs assaulted her from all directions as though a dozen specters spoke to her, each demanding her undivided attention. The voices surged through and around her, disorienting her as she tried to follow the source of the spectral voices.

_The right hand of shadow seeks the door twice opened . . ._

_Tides of darkness the seven shall bring . . ._

_The dark heralds shall once more be awoken . . ._

_The mightiest beast again will be free . . ._

The voices stopped for a moment as though letting her commit each verse to memory. The brief pause allowed her to regain her bearings and steady herself by holding on to the basin's rim. But as she managed to stand properly again the voices surrounded her once more and resumed their whispering.

When the last of the lights is all but taken . . . 

_Four lights from the darkness shall spring . . ._

_Restored is the oath, which was broken . . ._

_The Destined will once more be unsealed . . ._

'_Echoes,'_ thought Kastali. _'Merely echoes of a destiny once passed.'_

'_Would history repeat itself? Would their world share the same fate as ours?'_

'_Would we simply leave them to their fate?'_

She pried herself away from the scrying pool, unwilling to listen to any more repetitions of past prophecies. Unwilling to be whisked away by its magic and see the destiny it beheld.

She had heard it all before.

She had lived it.

And more importantly, she had lived _through_ it.

As she turned around to leave the chamber, a faint whisper, almost inaudible, caught her attention.

_. . . the four keys . . . crimson heart . . . _

She quickly spun around to face the scrying pool, expecting to see it glow a pale blue color, but was disappointed as the apparatus stood there dormant. She stood there and waited silently, hoping to hear more of this new passage.

'_Could there be more?'_

'_Could their destiny be different from ours?'_

She wondered what destiny now lied before the slayers, a destiny mysteriously indiscernible by the pool. Could this unexpected revelation actually be a small flicker of hope or does it doom their future even more? There was little else she could do now. She had already sent him to his destiny, to whichever end it might lead.

Destiny would come for them, that much is true. And they would have to meet it when it does.

'_I have taught him all the skills that I could teach,' _thought Kastali._ 'And now it is up to his acolyte training to augment it.'_

'_I only hope that it will be enough.'_

She thought of the young man's quest, his sole purpose for living, and how it was somehow akin to hers. She knew what he sought would be different from what he would find, no, not find, but what awaited him.

"Your destiny transcends vengeance, Zeph," Kastali said with a mixture of regret and wisdom in her voice. "Would you continue to stay in the past, or would you be able to see through the pain?"

"My role in this destiny is all but gone," she said thoughtfully. "There are only two tasks left for me."

And after voicing out the last of her pent up thoughts she left the scrying chamber. The wooden door behind her clicked softly before melding with the surrounding wall. Whatever was seen and heard inside would remain for her eyes and ears only.

Or so she thought.

If only she stayed for another minute in the chamber, she would've seen the scrying pool pulse a sinister green glow.

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Sunlight crept up on the capital city of Prontera, bathing its cobblestone streets and cement walls with its warm glow. The warm morning breeze swept through Prontera's empty streets announcing the new day, a new day of opportunities.

The sunlight that snuck into the windows of the Prancing Petite inn woke each of its occupants with its welcoming light. Not all however welcomed the sunlight back.

"AAARRGHH!" came Randt's agitated cry.

The wandering blacksmith tossed around in the bed ruffling the sheets, trying to block out the sun's radiant light. With one last flap of the bed covers he succeeded in covering himself completely.

"Five more minutes . . ." he said to no one in particular.

After his short outburst a sudden feeling of realization hit him, just as it did every time he would sleep in a comfortable mattress. Slowly he sat up on the bed and ran a hand through his chestnut brown hair, mussing it more than it already was. He then looked out the window with his ruby red eyes, using his right hand to shield them from the bright morning sun. Once his eyes had adjusted he quickly got up and got dressed. Tossing the final article of clothing, a ragged jacket, over his leather armor he thought of the new day, which awaited him.

'_Another day . . .'_ he thought, knowing that he would have to proceed with his usual routine.

Today, it seemed, would progress like any other day that he spent in a city. He would go out to the trading square and sell his forged weapons and armor during the day and would run through the local rumor mill at night, hoping to find at least a trace of the two mysterious words that fueled his journey. He would prowl about in taverns and inns even go to such lengths as contact the local thieves' guild. Most of the money he earned went to the search, using zenny to loosen tongues. How he longed for his search to end, the answers to his questions answered, his past made clear. How he wished that today something different would happen.

Needless to say this is the part where the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' comes in.

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The afternoon sun glowed red in the horizon, painting the southern fields of Prontera with an orange blush.

An armored figure made its way up a grassy hill with a shield slung upon its armored back and a sword sheathed by its side. The figure's strawberry blonde hair, arranged in a spiky ponytail, swayed in the brisk afternoon breeze. Slowly she trudged her way up the hill deep in thought.

'_I finally made it,'_ thought Freya _'Beyond this hill lay the capital city of Prontera.'_

It had been a long journey from Payon, nearly a week of navigating through dense jungles and traversing scorching desert sands. She had vanquished every monster that strayed in her path and overcame any obstacle that would hinder her. Now she stands at the threshold of her mission.

'_It shouldn't take more than a day to conclude this task.'_

She grimaced inwardly at the thought. She had already given her cry of indignation after she was briefed about her quest yet she still couldn't get rid of the feeling of disappointment that plagued her. Her first official mission: to personally deliver a letter to the king. It was a messenger's job, it was menial labor, and it was not something that someone of her capabilities should be assigned to do. Yet she accepted.

And she planned to complete her first mission to the letter.

She held the letter in between two fingers, as though examining its contents. She knew that no one other than the king may open the letter, but she can't help but wonder what important message required such a capable courier.

_Flashback_

"Heaven Sword fighting technique: Laguna Blade!"

A brilliant flash of light followed the technique's loud declaration, illuminating the dark Payon forest. A small orb of pure energy surged through the forest striking its intended target, a large boulder, and fragmented it. Freya stuck her sword on the ground and leaned heavily on it. Her energy reserves were all but spent on trying to master the Laguna Blade.

Her eyes narrowed quickly as she realized that she was being observed.

"Well done, sister, well done. No one before you has shown as much promise as you do," said the now revealed stalker. "You are the youngest swordswoman to ever perform a Laguna Blade, however incomplete its form is."

A figure stepped out from behind a tree, dressed in samurai clothes, which was a simple white gi and a black hakama, her flaming red hair reaching the her waist. She looked like an older and more beautiful version of Freya, her aura radiating an odd amount of benevolence and wisdom.

"Sister," Freya nodded in reply. "What brings you here?"

"Am I not welcome to visit my one and only sister?" Mirrialis said, feigning indignation.

"The only time you visit is when you want to test me in combat or when I am needed to be present in the main dojo," replied Freya.

"Why Freya, I'm hurt. Can I not have some time to bond with my beloved sister?"

Freya simply raised her eyebrows in response, expecting an even more witty repartee upon her answering the question. She was surprised however that her sister dropped the ruse rather quickly. Mirrialis Romanova then turned towards her sister, a serious look adorning her beautiful face. A look, which befitted the head of the Heaven Sword school.

"Sister, I have an important mission for you," explained the older Romanova.

"I want you to deliver this message to the king," she said, producing a scroll from the folds of her gi. "The message will disappear once it is read, therefore none but the one it is intended for may read it, do you understand?"

"Yes sister," Freya responded.

"You must leave immediately as time is against us. Prepare quickly and return to me when you are ready."

Freya then wasted no time in preparing. She was traveling alone and therefore meant that she had to travel light, bringing only her padded armor, buckler and her katana. Before she left, she and her sister shared one last warm embrace before she set out to do her task.

"Be careful, dear sister, the land is full of danger as well as those who seek to hinder your mission."

"Don't worry sister, they will fall by my blade should they cross paths with me," Answered Freya confidently.

"I know that you will do your best to accomplish this task . . . and I also envy you so much, for in this journey you will learn so much and it will enlighten your training even more."

"What . . . what do you mean? I have studied all of the ancient scrolls and learned most of the techniques . . ."

"I know that . . . you are undoubtedly the most skilled out of all of us, but you have to understand this school, the heaven sword school, does not rely on the way of the sword but something even more powerful, something that all other schools fail to acknowledge," she said, closing her eyes.

Freya stared oddly at her older sister.

Mirrialis met her beloved sister's gaze and smiled serenely. "It relies on the way of the heart."

"I don't need to learn such trivialities sister! I am a warrior! I am a swordswoman! All I need is the perfection of discipline and the way of the sword," Freya cried in indignation.

Mirrialis simply smiled at her sister's naiveté and said. "Go then, dear sister, and be safe."

She then watched her only sister walk out of the dojo's main gate and into the streets of Payon.

'_I wish you well Freya. May your heart find your true path.'_

_End flashback_

Freya's thoughts of her sister's words stopped as she neared the top of the small hill. She had made it to her destination with little trouble. Looking back towards the general direction of Payon, she sighed, deeply disappointed that her first mission would be an eventless journey back and forth.

She could not have been more wrong.

Freya then returned her thoughts to the present, looking at the sight of the Rune-Midgard's capital.

Something was wrong with this picture.

Tall pillars of smoke erupted from within Prontera's walls, creating an ominous black cloud over the capital city. The conflagration inside lit the streets in a sea of crimson haze.

All other thoughts emptied from her mind as she broke into a dead run towards the besieged city.

Prontera was burning.

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Author's Note: Whew the first chapter is finally done. After three weeks of waiting I've finally finished this chapter. The fight scene was supposedly in this chapter but it was already long enough so I'll save the siege of Prontera for the next chapter.

I don't know how the other writers do it but this stuff is hard.

Hope you like this and review so that I'll know that some people are looking forward to my story. It kinda motivates me, knowing that my work is appreciated.

Midnight Blue Eyes over and out.


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